


Popsicle

by BlueBerryOatmeal



Series: One-off Stories [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Drabble, Implied Relationships, M/M, Not Beta Read, POV Derek Hale, Phallic behaviour, Popsicles, Sexual Day Dreams, Stiles is a Tease, Summer, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-15
Updated: 2019-05-15
Packaged: 2020-03-06 00:55:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18840325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueBerryOatmeal/pseuds/BlueBerryOatmeal
Summary: Derek can't handle watching the way Stiles eats a popsicle, and all the sexual tension that implies.





	Popsicle

**Author's Note:**

> Just a quick little scene I wrote up now that the weather is getting warmer.  
> Sorry for any spelling mistakes.

Some days, Derek swore shit like this was being done on purpose. All these weird little habits and behaviours, there was no way that it wasn't intentional. It was happening so frequently now, almost daily. Effecting his senses and better judgment, rattling his instincts and leaving him a wound up ball of tension. There was just no way in hell...

From the smallest little gesture, in the way Stiles stretched back in a chair, or how he'd ruffle his hair and rub his neck. Derek swore it was all being done on purpose solely to drive him crazy.

Today, Stiles had somehow upgraded from just catching Derek's attention to leaving him feeling sucker punched in the gut, struck dumb and speechless.

 

The day was too hot for this nonsense. The midsummer sun relentlessly shown down over head without even a single cloud to provide any hope of shade. You could physically see the heat waved rising from the ground it was so hot. It was the kind of day that was best suited for doing absolutely nothing. Which was exactly what was going on.

The whole pack was gathered together just to be lazy. A few had spread out onto the grass to sunbathe and tan, but Derek remained stuffed into a corner of the porch where there was cover. It also placed him furthest away from where Stiles sat on the opposite corner, back to the support beam.

Stiles was nicely perched on the edge of the porch, one leg swinging off the side, turned to easily face Derek if he so chose to look up. Not that he was paying Derek any attention, Stiles was too busy bent over his phone, furiously typed away on some text. He was appropriately dressed for the heat in ripped jean shorts and a plain, light blue t-shirt. There was a light sweat starting to build on his hairline making his bangs bend and fall into his face.

The normally pale skin was pink with heat and a touch of a sunburn spread across his nose and cheeks. The sun kissed tone darkened each mole, leaving them more noticeable and more attractive than ever. The sight made Derek want to lick at each and ever one of the small brown dots knowing how good they would taste mixed together with the salty tang of Stiles hot skin.

Instead, Derek bit down on his tongue, not liking where his train of thought was heading.

However, it couldn't be helped, not while Stiles sat hunched forward, letting his shirt collar fall down passed his collarbone. Nor while there was a curious, amused look plastered all over his face regarding whatever it was he was doing on his phone. It apparently engrossed his attention fully because his eyes remained steady focused downward.

But most infuriatingly, Derek could not handle how Stiles' lips were spread wide and round, wrapped snugly around a long slim popsicle. He had half the thing jammed in his mouth where he just let it sit resting on his tongue. His lips glistened with saliva and melting juice. And every so often he would swallow the gathered liquid, the popsicle bobbing in his mouth.

It looked so suggestive and so damn tempting that Derek wanted so badly to tug the bloody thing out of his mouth all together, if only to save himself some sense of sanity. The sight was so painfully oblivious and innocent in a way, yet terribly arousing. From what Derek could tell, Stiles didn't even noticed that he was being watched the whole time, too focused on his phone.

Derek mentally ranked this as just as bad, if not worse, as how Stiles liked to chew on pens. Or how he'd stuff highlighters in his mouth. Licking and biting and sucking. In those incidences, Derek could usually make himself turn away and ignore what was going on. He could pretend like Stiles wasn't blowing a pen two feet from him, pretend that the fact was innocent and unintentional. But this, was different. Stiles had a popsicle stuffed to the back of his throat and was mouthing on it like...

something else...

Derek's brain was buffering. He couldn't function correctly or form a coherent thought that didn't involve the way Stiles' lips were spread. Any other thought got stuck half formed and left his mind entirely. He just kept staring, occasionally blinking.

All systems rebooted when Stiles tried to laugh about something and failed miserably, breathing in the popsicle a little too far and gagged. He pulled it out, coughing a little and making forced gurgling sounds as he sucked in fresh air. Stiles wiped some spit off on the back of his hand. It should have been completely unappealing, but Derek still couldn't look away. Mostly because he wouldn't have minded sliding another certain something far enough into Stiles' throat to make the guy choke. Just a little. To play with that mouth and give Stiles' oral fixation something to really work on.

Stiles went back to laughing as he regained his breath, acting like nothing happened. He shoved his phone forward into Scott's face and the two shared in a private joke.

Stiles idly swung the popsicle around by its stick. It was long and slim, rounded on top and slick with juice and spit. The bright colours looked all the more shiny as they melted and ran along the smooth icy coating. A drop hit the backs of Stiles' knuckled. Between trying to speak with Scott and laugh some more, he licked at his fingers around the stick. His tongue flicked up over the base of the frozen treat to catch any further drops.

Stiles' tongue was stained red. Derek could see it when he licked his lips.

Derek held his breath, leaning back into the deck chair he'd been brooding in for the passed while. He crossed his arms over his chest and tried his best to relax the tense feeling all throughout his body. It was a slow process. The held breath was let out slowly through his flaring nostrils and he did his best to imagine anything other than Stiles. Something he didn't find attractive in the slightest. He thought about things that irritated him or made him angry. Even things that were genuinely upsetting. His car breaking down. Being shot. Blood. Death. Peter.

They were all temporarily useful things, because all Derek's brain wanted to conjure up was that mess of brown hair resting against his spread thighs. Long thing fingers tugging on the front of his jeans in a hurry to get them off. Derek's mind proved traitorous as he thought of Stiles working the zipper of his pants down and those playfully honey coloured eyes peeking up at him from such a position.

Derek's eyes snapped open, consciously aware that his heart rate was picking up and that there was a noticeable stiffness tenting his jeans. He crossed his legs and hoped it looked casual. He also prayed non of the betas could pick up on his sudden behaviour.

Despite not wanting to look directly at Stiles himself, he couldn't help it. Stiles was still chatting with Scott and lazily taking that melting popsicle back into his mouth to suck away the juice from the tip. Scott took a swipe at Stiles' leg, lightly smacking his bare shin.

A twinge of jealousy washed over Derek and left him prickled, hair on the back of his neck standing on end. It never really occurred to him, probably because he knew the answer to such a ridiculous thought, but the relationship between Scott and Stiles seemed far too close for comfort, as dictated by Derek's lust driven point of view currently. If he could see how delightfully suggestive Stiles was being, couldn't Scott see that too? Or were they all actually that oblivious to that skilled tongue working over the phallic frozen treat.

Scott wasn't as innocent as he acted some times, Derek knew that. He chased after a number of girls when his hormones prompted him to do so – Allison, Malia, Kira. And with that thought creeping into his brain, the idea that Issac was no better joined in. He was currently stretched out in the grass close to Erica. The two peacefully lay tanning in the hot sun, effectively ignoring everyone else. Derek thought so anyway.

He had to physically check the others to make sure they weren't watching Stiles lick his popsicle. The innocent act wasn't so innocent to Derek and he didn't want anyone else to get the same ideas he was coming up with. Derek bit the inside of his cheek. Thinking either Scott or Issac being that close to Stiles left a bad taste on his tongue. It felt too wrong and unnatural.

Thankfully his imagination spared him by not bring up any of those kinds of scenarios. It actually didn't have the time as his brain once again went into total shut down when, for a brief moment – like a blink and you'll miss it kind of moment – Stiles looked in his direction as he slowly ran his tongue up the length of what was left of the melting popsicle. Then, just like that, he turned back to his conversation with Scott.

The sudden look left Derek feeling winded. He held back a groan as he shifted in his chair. There was no comfortable way to sit however, between being a million degrees and hard. He honestly wouldn't have even minded the summer heat as long as he could have the latter problem dealt with by Stiles kneeling at this feet. To have that sinful mouth sliding up and down the length of his hard cock, while those fingers gripped the base. The weather wouldn't have mattered in the slightest then. Not as long as he had his own fingers knotted in Stiles' hair, gently pushing him down until he dumped the back of his throat.

He wanted Stiles to give him the same overzealous attention he gave that damned popsicle. He wouldn't even have to encourage him. Stiles would just lick and suck to his hearts content, keeping his face buried in Derek's lap.

That's how they'd spend the hot afternoon, trading off positions, lazily pleasuring the other wherever they happened to be. On the porch or in the grass. Derek wanted to make Stiles moan in ecstasy just as much as he wanted to take selfish pleasure and paint the guy's face. Though of course that would happen first. After enjoying Stiles have fun with his cock, he's nudge him off the tip. Face pink, eyes lidded with lust and mouth open. Then Derek would make sure cum got everywhere. So there would be ribbons crossing his jaw and lips, all the way up into his sweat damp hair.

Before Derek could even notice, but much to his relief and mixed disappointment, Stiles finished his popsicle.

He fiddled with the stick between his fingers and chewed on it out of boredom. It wasn't as much of a suggestive gesture but Derek didn't mind to watch still. He took another calming breath and rested his head back a bit. At least he could cool off now.

He would have, until Erica pipped up with amusement and teasing laced throughout her tone.

“Derek, you should get Stiles another popsicle,” she commented as she stretched and rolled over in the grass. Issac started laughing loudly beside her.

Derek frowned, annoyance covering up his embarrassment. He didn't respond as he got up out of his chair.

While the others in the grass ignored them, both Scott and Stiles looked between Derek and Erica in confusion. The two betas kept laughing knowingly at Derek's expense.

Stiles blinked and pulled the popsicle stick out of his mouth as he watched Derek storm off into the house. He looked at Scott after the screen door banged closed and asked, “what's his problem?”

Scott took a slow breath in of the hot air and scrunched his nose, now cluing in a little late to what was going on. “Uh...” he started but chuckled and shook his head. “Derek's just... being Derek.”

Stiles hummed, accepting that as an answer. He leant back on the deck post and tossed the popsicle stick aside, no longer wanting it. He was disappointed Derek left so quickly. He had hoped to get a little more use out of the little piece of wood.

Because he would risk a splinter in his tongue all to sexually torture his grumpy sour wolf.

 


End file.
